Najide, quite the budding philosopher, ponders often. He ponders long and hard, vast and deep. He builds and constructs and manufactures tiny little “thought cities” with very intricate infrastructures. He uses these as tools to analyze a world that just doesn’t make any sense. His father, on the border of a horrendous death laughs maniaclly and rarely wears pants; even if he’s outside, even if he’s cooking, even if he’s wearing a shirt. He’s never seen his mother and was told he emigrated from India by himself when he was a baby. His skin is like an ivory pillar. He lives with another family much like his in an apartment that is clearly too small.. Some of the other man’s sons are older than their father. Their ages are quite ambiguous even to themselves. This aligns with Larry’s recent order that the kids aren’t allowed to have Time in the house, that they must concur and promise not to pass through it or face being scalded with hot whole milk. Najide finds this a curious decree but can’t account for all the missing or added hours in his day.
He’s a young man (he thinks) scared, tired, and lost in a world of mystery and pantsless dads. Two dads.
He watches in awe of his family’s disregard for decency. “Why does everyone wear pants daddy?” A tear comes to his eye, then turning east, prays to Mecca for forgiveness. Must he, until his final resting day, live in this bizarre reality?
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